RP Catch all

[jumpygrumpy]

To one day have some basic starters lol

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[revolutionne]

[ The road to Camp Dragonhead is blessedly quiet, save for the occasional footfall of a Highland Goobbue or the sound of a tree branch finally giving to the weight of the snow that has accumulated on it. Only the gentle sounds of nature that have prospered against all odds, acclimating to the freeze of their home. The road is clear and empties the further he strays from Ishgard's walls, something of which Aymeric appreciates. There is too much on his mind and he welcomes the simplicity of the chill air and crunch of old snow underneath his boots.

A missive and messenger could have easily been sent in his stead, but in light of Haurchefant's untimely passing, Aymeric thought it would be a good show of faith and comradery to address the Fortemps Knights there in person as they work to coordinate their efforts with the Temple Knights proper.

Against his better judgment, Aymeric had opted to make the trek alone. Lucia had made several reasonable arguments as to why it was unwise, including the only too recent attempt on his life that still caused him moment of discomfort when he twisted the wrong way, but he had insisted. The journey from the Gates of Judgment to Camp Dragonhead was not long when the weather was clear and the fauna along the way were manageable for the most. Aymeric would have liked to believe it was his own sound counterarguments that won the day, yet he knows that in the end it was Lucia understanding his desire for solitude and peace of mind that she relented despite her own concerns.

Or so he thought until the moment where he arrived at the Gates he found two Temple Knights waiting to accompany him on his trek.

Aymeric had been more than tempted to turn them away back to their posts, but finally relented to the escort. As much as he preferred to be left alone with his thoughts for a bell or two, he does understand that essentially being the only acting Head of State comes with its own risks. (Said risks are ones he is clearly willing to face head on.) At least his impromptu guards heed his request for it to be a quiet trip, speechless. Quiet save for the sound of their march, the movement of chain mail and swords shifting against their hips.

It is when the quiet goes to silence that Aymeric starts to feel off. He stops on the trail, holding his hand up, halting his escorts a few steps behind him. ]